Oh So Boring…

Welp, I got an email from the AAAS people today informing me I haven’t been rejected yet.  Yay!

The story behind this starts a few days ago when I went back to AAAS because…I dunno, I’m a masochist?  While there, I noticed that my status had changed from “Not Selected” to “Eligible”.  Thus: confusion.

So, heeding the words of my friends in regards to the job search, I decided to be aggressive (for me) and write and ask them what was going on.

Turns out the system apparently marked a few applications “Not Selected” inadvertently.  Mine happened to be one of them.  It’s “good” to know that without my job OCD, I might have avoided all those fun emotions.

Oh, and I have decided to squelch that voice inside me that is saying “There is a reason only a few apps, including yours, got marked that way, Matt.”  I have promised her, my love, that this week I am positive.  So, I will be positive for her.

After my pity party post last night, I woke up this morning and decided that my fear was not going to be my guide.  Not today.  Not this week.

So, I’ve resolved myself to not worry at all about jobs, the economy, my future, none of that for one week.

I will be more confident for my friends.  I’m sure they are tired of hearing me whine about life and all.  I flinch when I think of the “why me” I have inflicted on my Twitter and Facebook friends. So this week, they get only a bright outlook from me.

I will be more confident for my family.  They are never anything but positive and supportive of me.  I should return the damn favor for once.  I owe them more than that, but let this be one small step in that direction.

I will be more confident for her.  My light and my love…she is never anything but confident in me. For me not to feel the same about myself diminishes her.  I will not do that.  Besides, this week is a stressful one for her.  Preparing for an interview is something that needs no distractions.  So this week, I will be there for her.  I will be her rock this week.  I will be there to boost her confidence, if need be.  I will be her jester, if she needs a laugh.  I know she has done and will do the same for me.

I will be more confident for me.  Selfish, I know, but it’s the kind of selfishness that is good for you.  For one week, I will feel good about myself.  I will feel good about who I am and what I’ve accomplished.  I will trust that my skills will find a place in this economy.  I will accept that my job is *not* who I am.  I will learn that I can do this.  I will be better than I was.

I will be confident.

Sigh.  Just watched the report on “60 Minutes” about the death of DHL and the consequences of that on Wilmington.  Every day new reports on the economy, every day, bad reports on the economy.

And here I am…doing an NRC postdoc that I love, a contract job that ends the end of July.  Every week I send out resumes.  Every week I apply for jobs.

And yet I am picky.  Can I afford to be picky?  I say to myself, “I don’t want to do another postdoc.” I say, “I want a real job, with real responsibility.” And yet, all I see that fits my skillset are postdocs.  Every day a new postdoc call.  Every day another postdoc that I could do.  And yet I know I wouldn’t like it.

I can’t be picky, can I?  Am I allowed to say that I won’t apply because I won’t like the job?  A job is a job.  Who am I to say that every day?

And above all else, I am scared.  I am so scared.  I try not to let it show, and I think I’m mildly successful.  If nothing else, I can get through the day.  Every day.

But then comes the night.  At night, my stoicism fails.  At night, I become scared and I cannot stop myself.  Every night, I seem to experience some new fear.  Every night I seem to have fitful sleep, the sleep of the unsure, the sleep of the American worker.

And yet, every day I wake up.  Every day I go to work or I think about work.  I think how I can show the universe that I can do work, that I am worth work.

And I think about my family and how they love me.  How they support me.  Every day.

Finally, I think of one more person.  A person I care about more than I thought I ever could.  She is the bright light in my life. She is my surety in unsure times. I think of her every week.  Every day.  Every hour.  Ever.  Always.

And still, I am scared.